Exhaled from the lungs that became blackened by the night, a cloud of smoke rises overtop the head of the man beside me. His face is shadowed by the light of the moon and illuminated by the fluorescent lights that haunt the ink-filled atmosphere of 3AM. I can feel the sun beginning to rise in the east as the moon continues to fight for its spot in the sky. However, in its heart, the moon too understands that its efforts are useless as good seems always to prevail over evil, light over darkness.

He's wearing gray skinny jeans and tattered black high-tops made of broken soles and fading canvas fabric. Beneath his eyes he carries years of baggage from a time lost to memories and a green stocking cap covers the strands of dark hair that peek out from beneath its confines. The wind blows our way and he attempts to cover the remainder of his goose-bumped flesh behind the thinning threads of his jacket. He looks up and my eye catches his. We're the only two people at the bus stop, maybe the only two people left at all in the world.

I begin to walk towards him. I ask him for a light and slowly he takes a wrinkled pack of Marabolo's out of the back pocket of his jeans. Our fingers brush against each-others as he hands me the cigarette and I feel the warmth of his skin against my own freezing layer of flesh. Stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jacket he brings out a red Zippo lighter and a woolen glove. He offers the glove to me before he lights my cigarette and I accept his offer as I notice the blood begin to rush up into my cheeks. Noticing this, he chuckles. His voice is deep and flows through my mind leaving behind it a trail of stuttering heartbeats. These beats are slowed as I take a drag on the cigarette and relish the feeling of the nicotine entering my lungs. I watch as the smoke is released into the air and blown away with the wind to a place that I'll never know. I crack a smile. It's at times like this when I am the happiest. Our eyes meet again as the moon starts to fade from an orange color to a sickening yellow. From his face, I can tell he is contemplating his next move.

"What's your name?" I decide to tell him the truth as he seems different than most.

"Himchan. Yours?" My voice sounds barely above a whisper and for a second, I'm unsure if he heard my response at all. However, I see his face alight and he answers. "Yongguk. Bang Yongguk.”                                                                                                           

"Well, it's nice to meet you Bang Yongguk. Have you eaten by any chance?" He seems surprised. Maybe I moved a little too quickly. Suddenly, I'm kicking myself for being too forward. But soon, my mood changes as he releases a smile etched in gums.

"Not since this afternoon." I nod.

"C'mon then. Just follow me."

-----

We walk down deserted boulevards in a comfortable silence. The sound of the wind and faraway cars provide a sort of music to accompany the walk. Lost in our thoughts, we drift quietly past forgotten stop signs and unused crosswalks that are only around to create a facade of structure inside a city run by the rules that are the listless fantasies of youth. Soon, we come across an unassuming diner situated between the concrete walls of abandoned office buildings whose empty rooms are gradually filling with dust and are haunted by the dying dreams of the men and women who once owned them.

The door to the diner releases a loud creaking noise as I open it. Upon entering, we are greeted by the smell of strong coffee and uncleaned grease. An aging waitress waits on tables that are never filled. Spying us, she yells across the room that we can seat ourselves. I decide to let Yongguk choose. He picks a booth in the corner with a window at the end. Looking around I notice the other customers that litter the restaurant.

Two tables down, a man sits alone continuously glancing out the window with a look of longing and hopefulness flooding his features. At another table in the middle of the room sits a young university student with a cold meal and a steaming cup of coffee sitting beside her. The steam rising from her coffee lifts into the vent that waits stagnantly just above her head. Her eyes are covered by black-rimmed glasses and her face is rooted within a large book without a name or plot-line. There's a clock on the wall beside the kitchen that reads 3:53AM. Sighing, I look up at Yongguk.

He has the menu open but I can tell that although his eyes skim the page, nothing is being comprehended. His shoulders fall as he blinks his eyes and his lips. I assume this is some sort of nervous habit. The arms of the clock continue ticking and in time the waitress approaches our table. She asks us what we want. I glance in Yongguk's direction and he just shrugs. I take that as a sign to just order for both of us and relay the message of coffee and toast for two. The waitress scribbles down the order and walks away leaving behind no indication that she even understood what I said.

"I guess it doesn't really matter anyways." Yongguk grins.

"Yeah, I guess it really doesn't huh." Taking his response as a reason to begin conversation, I start to speak.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly were you doing tonight?" About twenty seconds pass before he responds.

"Well, I needed to clear my mind so I went on a walk. And one thing sort of lead to another and I got lost. So, I went to the bus stop on the assumption that the driver would be able to bring me back home."

"Why didn't you just ask me while we were standing there? I've lived in this city my entire life."

With this, Yongguk's face takes on a reddening hue. "I just felt like it was a one sided question and couldn't really progress any farther than the answer, y'know?"

He says this almost under his breath, so I struggle to understand his response, but eventually I get what he means. “I'm pretty glad you didn't ask that then." After I say this, our coffee arrives. We both drink it black. Something about the bitter taste really fits the atmosphere that surrounds my lifestyle and the color of the drink is not so much black as the deepest shade of purple. Our toast arrives next drowning in an ocean of butter. Looking down in disgust, neither of us even attempts a bite. Yongguk begins absentmindedly ripping his up into tiny pieces and stacking them atop one another.

The window at the end of the table fogs up as a result of the tears condensing against the panes that separate us from the cruel world that will welcome us when we walk out the door. The snow that was once so beautiful has turned to a brown slush because mankind insists on turning all things pure to dirt and grim. Yongguk is still playing with his toast and taking sporadic sips from his coffee mug. I hope that he is never changed by the ways of the world surrounding him, yet I understand that that last ounce of a flickering glint left in his eyes which enticed me today will soon be replaced by dull stares and the realization that tomorrow will most likely be no better than today. Thinking of this sad truth, I can’t stop myself from reaching out to grab his hand overtop the table. His fingers are delicate and there’s an X written on his palm in black Sharpie. He looks up, confused and unsure of the situation as it presents itself.

“Don’t ever change. I know we just met and all, but please, don’t ever change.”

My heartbeats echo inside my chest as I watch a single tear slide down his profile. He looks at me. His eyes are the murky brown color of chestnut and the dark circles lining the underside of his eyes are somehow attractive against the pallor of his skin.

“I think it might be too late for that.” He shakes his head slowly and allows his hair to fall over his eyes. I tighten my grip and tell him we should go. Upon standing, I notice that the ground beneath our feet is made of the same concrete that decorates the buildings outside. I look up from the crumbling stone floor and find a torn picture of a rainbow hanging from the wall by a piece of scotch tape. At the end of the rainbow sits a pot of gold, and underneath it sits the smiling faces of unnamed children.

Maybe, this was the sign I was waiting for. The sign that will show us where we’re going and what we have to do to continue on without struggle. Yongguk insists on paying for the meal, and although I’ll never admit it to him, I’m glad. As of late, I’ve been having trouble simply finding the money to eat, let alone go out. My body is thinning and the grumble of my stomach never ceases it’s ringing in my eardrums. Forgetting this, Yongguk and I walk out of the restaurant, leaving behind us our gloomy moods and sleepless mindsets.

-----

The sky is beginning to take on a pinkish glow as we continue our walk down the road leading us to infinity. For long stretches, we are completely alone on the pavement. When a person does happen to pass us, their eyes are fixed on the ground and therefore, we go unnoticed. Eventually, we make it to our destination. Before us lies a body of water. It’s crashing waves seem to create a rumble beneath our feet as we stand in silence.

The blue-green waters are littered with artifacts from the lives of people we will never know. The water carries the secrets of the old and the remembrance of the young. Below the waves sit bottles filled with shameful utterances and ramblings, yet on the surface all seems clear and beautiful. In the distance, the sun begins to rise overtop of a city that, even in light, is filled with darkness. Yongguk releases his hand from my grasp. I can honestly say I don’t even remember grabbing it to begin with. Everything just felt so natural and easy. He reaches, again, into his back pocket and brings out the same wrinkled packet from earlier in the morning. Upon opening the pack, we discover that there is only one cigarette remaining. Offering it to me, he lights it. Again, I feel the smoke infusing itself within my lungs and for a second, everything is calm and serene. The smoke that exits my mouth floats overtop the sea and into the clouds. I give the cigarette to Yongguk. Accepting, he breathes in deeply as the smoke is inhaled. A glaze covers his eyes and he releases the smoke through his nostrils.

Shaking his head, Yongguk stomps the cigarette into the creases of the sidewalk and takes hold of my hand. On my left, I am still wearing his glove. I lay my head on his shoulder and a sigh escapes my lips. By this time, the sun has well surpassed the moon and another day has begun. Soon, men and women will be waking up for work and children for school. It will be a day just like any other. Yet, this time, for me, I can feel a difference. I difference that came with the face of an unknown stranger that caught my eye and left an impression I can’t see myself forgetting. Yongguk kisses my cheek and starts leading me away from the edge of the bridge.

“So, what are our plans for the rest of the day?”